“Maybe it’s Sheryl Sandberg’s message about women advocating for themselves or the so-called ending of men or the noisome miasma of Hannah Horvath on “Girls” in the zeitgeist. Perhaps it is simply the fact that it’s 2014 already. But forget leaning in. These characters were busy lunging at their daughters (Meryl Streep in “August: Osage County”), clawing their way back onto the social register (Cate Blanchett in “Blue Jasmine”), manipulating cons within cons (Amy Adams in “American Hustle”), searching to reunite a shattered family (Judi Dench in “Philomena”) and hurtling through outer space (Sandra Bullock in “Gravity”).”
Congrats, Cate! Luh u, gurl! Read the whole sordid thing on Al Jazeera America!
Hey, remember me? Gangly, loud, and a potentially undiagnosed William’s Syndrome patient? Have you been pondering my radio silence? Did you think I’d joined a cult/been held hostage/been forced into white slavery? Don’t front like you haven’t noticed. I realize it must be a daily exercise in disappointment, your fingers typing out the URL from pure muscle memory, only to be rendered prostrate and immobile for the rest of the workday when you see Andy Cohen’s nefarious mug every time. How cruelly I taunt you now, with this tease of an apology/explanation regarding my sketchy whereabouts, only to deny you more of me. How I toy with your emotional stability. At this point, your loved ones are probably concerned. Maybe you’ve formed a local support group dedicated to saving elizabethgreenwood.wordpress.com. While I may not be blogging with the same gusto of the once-dewy faced Liz Greenwood, I am always available for speaking engagements. For a fee, of course. Please forward inquiries to my booking agent, who is currently taking meetings in her office, a suitcase:
Like so many other Americans who treat self-improvement as an ersatz religion, I harbor a handful of niggling goals that I can never fully implement. These are not the typical “lose ten pounds,” “volunteer,” and “save money.” I gave up on those a long time ago. Lose ten pounds? I have better things to do (I do! I swear!). And volunteer? While I am attempting to turn Bonnie into a therapy dog (though she is ill-mannered and will never pass the test)
for the ostensible benevolent purpose of brightening the days of convalescing old folks, really, I just want to be able to take her inside Trader Joe’s. Saving money for me is the ongoing debate of when to go to the Coinstar, with the time window constantly diminishing. I used to go once a year and come home with like 200 bucks to blow on a facial/massage at a nail salon and dinner at Café Noir. Then it would be like 80 bucks every six months, spent on one Lifebooker laser hair removal treatment. The results have been, er, spotty. Now I haul my pittance of pennies and silver pieces once a month, and treat myself to Chipotle on the way home, feeling like a wealthy woman.
The glitterati cannot help but stalk the movements of architecture’s latest rising star. Here I am, all up in the Paris Review blog whhhuuuttttt?!?!?!
Nothing says “slow news week” like my ARCHITECTURE being featured in THE NEW YORK TIMES! Read all about it here.
The culprit: my creation, which just happens to resemble a Vegas shopping mall, inspired by David Foster Wallace’s “A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again.”
I’m big in the Philippines. I mean HUGE! Literally, that is. I spent a glorious week sampling the delicassies, like this guy
and being serendaded by blind bands. The Philippines is at the fore of blind entertainment, as evidence by this video and this video, and this guy, who also provides massages.
I once contended that Barney Frank is my spirit animal. Why? “He talks like he has a mouth full of bologna,” “we would watch Golden Girls together with our hair in curlers,” and he is an “American hero.” Nothing quite like quoting yourself, back when you used to be funny. I stand by this, especially since my figure resembles Frank’s zaftig physique more and more in my advanced age.
But I recently had the pleasure of visiting God’s country, the Philippines, through which a former equally rotund legislator (though far less progressive), William Howard Taft, was transported via riding chair through the country of 7,100 islands. A few years ago I thought I was really cool and bohemian, having backpacked in grungy glory to the Leonardo DiCaprio beach and danced in full moonlight in body paint on the shores of Thailand. Amateur, I tell you. If you are a sentient human being and desire to open new horizons via riding chair or just on foot like a mere mortal, the Philippines is where it’s at. Continue reading